


Constancy

by rosecake



Category: Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu | Legend of the Galactic Heroes
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 12:19:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8890552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecake/pseuds/rosecake
Summary: Set during Seasons 1 & 2.  Schönkopf has always done whatever Yang needs him to.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gingayellow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingayellow/gifts).



> I hope you like the story & have a happy Yuletide! Also, FWIW: I went back and forth on the name spellings, but I eventually went with the LN translation's versions instead of the versions in AO3's tags, so I hope that doesn't throw anyone.

They don't take Iserlohn Fortress without the Rosen Ritter. He's toyed with various alternatives, let hundreds of scenarios play out in his head, but at the end of the day he knows it doesn't work without the Rosen Ritter. There's no guarantee it will work even _with_ the Rosen Ritter, but their chances are decent. At any rate, Yang has his orders, and he likes this plan better than the court-martial he'll get if he outright refuses. 

Still, a few minutes out from the point of no return he starts thinking about how a court-martial might not be that bad. Anything's better than having a bloodbath on your conscience. 

He fiddles with comm controls for a second, and eventually decides to make one last contact before they have to go comms silent. "Last chance to change your mind," he says to Commander Schönkopf. 

"I think we passed that point a while ago, don't you?" He sounds calm for a man about to walk directly into the lion's den. "Having second thoughts?" 

Yang shouldn't have called. He's not sure why he did. He isn't worried about Schönkopf's loyalty, despite warnings from a number of his colleagues, but that's still probably what Schönkopf is thinking. There are a lot of things that can go wrong with their infiltration, Schönkopf included, but Yang is confident that if things do go sideways, it isn't going to be because of the Rosen Ritter. 

"Why would I be having second thoughts?" says Yang. "I get to stay out of sight on a fast ship until the hard part's over. I can run away whenever I want. You're the one who's going to be stuck in an impregnable enemy fortress if things go wrong." 

Schönkopf just laughs at that. "No need to be nervous, Admiral. They're not going to see through us. And even if they do, the fighting will just take a little longer. I said the Rosen Ritter was taking the command center, so that's what we're going to do." 

"I know," says Yang. He does know. It's a good plan and it's going to work. "Good luck anyway." 

Yang slides back in his chair, trying to clear his mind. He has his own role to play in this charade, and he should be calm for it. And it's not as if worrying will change anything at this point anyway. A bell sounds as they cut comms, and the mission clock on his display starts its countdown as the fleet moves into position. 

He really hopes he didn't just send Schönkopf to his death.

\----------

It takes over a day to properly secure the fortress and finish with all the debriefings and meetings and other assorted bureaucratic ephemera demanded by the brass. Everyone he talks to seems elated by the victory. He'd only been given the order to take Iserlohn in the hopes that he'd get himself killed in the process, but still, everyone is thrilled he pulled it off anyway. Yang had been elated at first too, but that was when he'd only been up for twenty-four hours. Now he's pushing sixty hours with no sleep and the only thing that makes him happy is the thought of his bed.

Someone knocks at the door to his quarters, which had up until extremely recently belonged to an Imperial admiral. Yang nearly cries with relief when he finds Schönkopf at the door, not some junior grade lieutenant he's never seen before with a stack of papers that absolutely have to be signed off on _right now_ for some reason. 

"I can come back later if you'd prefer to rest," he says. Yang must look dead on his feet, but Schönkopf looks fine. Still riding high on victory, apparently. 

"No, come in," says Yang, moving to let him through. "I'm so tired I can't sleep. I wouldn't mind being distracted from that cruel irony." 

"Coming down after an engagement like that can be difficult," says Schönkopf. He'd changed his shirt at some point, but he's still wearing the pants and boots of the Imperial uniform. He opens a few of Yang's cabinets without asking, which confuses Yang at first, but then it all clears up when Schönkopf finds a bottle of wine and then, in the next cabinet, a couple of wine glasses. 

"This should help you sleep," he says, opening the bottle. 

It isn't any vintage Yang has ever head off, but both the bottle and the gold-rimmed glasses look ludicrously expensive. He whistles appreciatively. "I hadn't even thought to look around yet. The Imperials sure don't skimp on their side perks, do they?" 

"How would anyone know they're nobles if they didn't spend money like it was water?" says Schönkopf. He hands Yang a glass of wine and then raps his own glass against it. "Well, here's to the miracle worker." 

That nickname has caught on a lot faster than Yang would've liked. "You don't have to toast me," says Yang. "You're the one who did all the heavy lifting, anyway." He takes a sip of the wine, and it goes down so smoothly he decides to drain the whole glass.

"If you want to give me all the credit, I'll take it," says Schönkopf. "But what do you think is going to happen now that we've achieved the impossible?" 

Yang hasn't spent much time thinking about anything other than the Iserlohn infiltration for months now. What happens next is not his problem. At least he really hopes it isn't his problem. "I don't know. The FPA uses its newfound strategic advantage to negotiate a favorable cease-fire and I retire to live my life in obscurity someplace with nice weather?" 

Schönkopf laughs, which is a little demoralizing because Yang had only been half-joking. "That seems a little too optimistic to be plausible." 

"A man can dream, can't he?" asks Yang. He can feel the wine working already, and he pours himself a second glass. Right now he just wants to sleep for days, not think about his future. "What about you?" he asks. "You don't have to stay with the 13th Fleet if you don't want to. The transfer orders were temporary. What do you want to do next?" 

"I'm not sure," says Schönkopf. "I guess it depends on what you end up doing, doesn't it?"

\----------

Yang finds Schönkopf eating his dinner in the cafeteria. It's late, and the room is deserted except for the two of them, which suits Yang just fine. He needs to talk about the upcoming invasion of Imperial territory and he has no desire to act like a responsible adult about it.

"It's official," he says, slumping into the seat across from Schönkopf. "We're launching an full-scale invasion into Imperial territory and there's nothing anyone can do to stop it. The schedule is still up in the air, but the brass is committed to launching as quickly as they can." 

"Well, that will end poorly," says Schönkopf. He seems far bothered about it than Yang, though. 

"I know," says Yang, not bothering to keep the whinging out of his voice. He buries his face in his hands. "I can't believe we're all going to be stuck in this mess. Why doesn't anyone ever listen to me?" 

"Surely Miracle Yang has a plan to save the Alliance from itself?"

"Sun Tzu himself couldn't come up with a strategy to defeat idiocy on this scale," complains Yang. Schönkopf's beer bottle is sitting on the table, tempting and unguarded, and Yang makes a quick grab for it. Schönkopf's too fast for him, though, and has him by the wrist before he gets close. 

"That's mine. Get your own," says Schönkopf.

"Please?" implores Yang. "I'm not nearly drunk enough right now." 

Schönkopf rolls his eyes, but he lets go of Yang's wrist and makes no further attempt to stop him as Yang takes his beer and finishes it off. 

"Besides, I shouldn't have to deal with this at all," says Yang, after a moment in quiet reflection lamenting that the bottle had been mostly empty anyway. "I should be retired on a beach somewhere." 

"You're barely thirty," says Schönkopf. "It's obscene listening to a person as young as you talk about retirement so often." 

" _Fine._ They could at least give me a nice boring post somewhere in the interior. Why should I keep running myself ragged out here on the front lines? The only reward for success around here is more work." 

"Can't you just stay at Iserlohn?" asks Schönkopf. "Somebody has to be in charge of fortress defense, and at least that way you'll be out of the worst of it." 

"I suggested that, and I was told in no uncertain terms I would be part of the advancing fleet," says Yang. 

"Well, at the very least we might get some ground combat in," says Schönkopf, smiling. Yang huffs. It's just like Schönkopf to see the upside in the the potential for gratuitous violence. 

"Come on," says Schönkopf, rising and coming over to pull Yang up out of his seat. "I have more alcohol in my quarters." 

Right at this moment, 'more alcohol' is pretty much the only thing Yang wants to hear about. He throws an arm around Schönkopf's neck and leans into him as they walk through the halls. "You're the real miracle worker here," he says. "I don't know what I'd do without you." 

"Don't worry," says Schönkopf, ruffling Yang's hair. "You'll never have to find out. And I'm sure you'll find a way to save the FPA from itself. You always do."

\----------

Yang watches the news every day. He knows something is coming, he just doesn't know when, or what exactly it's going to look like. Probably a coup, definitely some sort of political upheaval, and all of that'll be on top of the economic crash. So every day he watches, looking for a warning sign or a signal. He's almost reached the point where he wishes it would just happen already. Anything would be better than the waiting.

There's a click as somebody enters his quarters. He leans his head back, sees that it's Schönkopf, and lets his gaze drift back to the screen. 

"Still worried about the political situation?" asks Schönkopf. 

"Yes," says Yang. 

"Have you decided what you're going to do if the coup happens?" 

He's already resigned himself to the fact that it's a matter of when, not if. "Maybe. I don't know." 

He has plans rolling around in his head, but he doesn't much care for any of them, and it's hard to focus on planning when he isn't even sure what he's planning for. He exhales in frustration and turns off the screen. The news isn't helping. The news media has even less information than he does. 

 

"It never rains but it pours," says Yang. "I just want one good year. One year with no fighting, no political unrest, no massive undertakings to organize." 

"Something's got to keep that mind of yours sharp," says Schönkopf, coming around to sit down beside Yang on the couch. 

"You're telling me you wouldn't like just a year off from this madness?" 

"I'm not like you. I'd get bored," says Schönkopf. 

"Just think of all the free time you'd have to get laid," jokes Yang. 

Schönkopf laughs, and his leg brushes up against Yang's as he leans in very, very close. Too close to really be acceptable. "I've never had any problems getting what I wanted before," he says, his voice low, his face so close that Yang can feel the warmth of his breath. He's smiling, but it's that predatory looking smile he has so often, and his gaze is too sharp. It makes it hard Yang to think. Yang swallows nervously, and stares at an empty patch of wall next to to the couch to avoid eye contact as he tries to remember what they'd been talking about before Yang stepped directly into this trap. 

"You don't actually have to do anything if you don't want to," says Schönkopf.

"What?" asks Yang, his eyes snapping back to Schönkopf, who hasn't moved. 

"Let the Allaince leadership tear itself apart," says Schönkopf. Oh, right, they'd been talking about the imminent collapse of democratic civilization. He's not sure how he forgot that. "It doesn't have to be your problem," continued Schönkopf. "It doesn't matter who wins. None of them would be able to take Iserlohn back from you." 

"Schönkopf-" starts Yang, but Schönkopf interrupts him with a hand on his chest that shuts Yang down immediately. 

"There's not going to be a coup here, is there? Not against you."

Yang sighs. Schönkopf is still far too close, and his hand is still on Yang's chest, and the tension of maintaining what slight distance still remains between them is getting irritating. So instead he shifts, turning so that now he isn't so much leaning on the couch as he is leaning on Schönkopf. Probably a bad idea on his part, but it's also much more comfortable, so he can't find it in himself to regret it. 

"You're an Alliance commander. You shouldn't say things like that." 

"I'm serious," says Schönkopf. "You underestimate what you could pull off here, Yang." 

Yang closes his eyes. The idea was appealing, but only on the most superficial level. No one fortress, no matter how strong or how well-located, could stand with the rest of the universe aligned against it. And even if he could pull it off, it wouldn't matter. It would still be wrong. 

"Everybody's right about you, aren't they?"

"That depends," says Schönkopf. "I've been lead to believe there are a lot of different things people say about me." 

Probably most of them accurate. But Yang remembers not the first time he ever met Schönkopf, but the first time he'd ever heard of him. He'd overheard two commanders talking about him, the brand new Regimental Commander Schönkopf of the Rosen Ritter. There'd been no real question between the two that he wasn't loyal, they were only in disagreement over how long it would take him to commit the actual treason. In the end, he'd say they'd been about half right. 

"You don't care about the FPA at all, do you?" 

"No," says Schönkopf. "I've never cared about the Alliance." 

"Why spend all your time fighting very hard for something you don't care about?" asks Yang. 

"You're smart," says Schönkopf. "You figure it out. 

"You just wanted an opportunity to fight the Empire?" 

"That was most of it at first, but not anymore. You know that, Yang." 

"I know," says Yang. He's realized for a while now that Schönkopf doesn't care very much about the Alliance, or what it stands for. But that doesn't change the fact that he is intensely and almost painfully loyal to Yang. So many people on Iserlohn are loyal to _Yang_ , and when he thinks too hard about that the pressure is crushing. "It's just a lot to take." 

"Well, none of it really matters, does it? You're not going to abandon the Alliance, so I don't have much of a choice in the matter." 

Yang sighs. "The Alliance has held together for a few hundred years now," he said. "I feel like somebody should at least _try_ to save it." 

"You don't have to convince me," says Schönkopf, pulling Yang closer. "I will fight and die for it, if that's what you want." 

What a horrifying thing to say. "I don't want you to die," says Yang. "Not any under circumstance." 

"Alright," says Schönkopf. "What do you want from me, then?" 

Yang can't really say he's leaning on Schönkopf at this point. No, now he is outright being held, and he's not as alarmed by that as he should be. It feels nice, and he's pretty sure he'd rather just lie here with Schönkopf for the next year than do anything else. He feels drunk, except he hasn't had anything to drink all day. 

"I want you to stop talking about politics," says Yang. He wants more than that, but he hesitates. He's never been good at this sort of thing, and the words stick in is throat. 

Fortunately, no one has ever accused Schönkopf of hesitancy. He pulls Yang so that they're facing each other and kisses him, with his strong hands on either side of Yang's face to keep him in position. Yang's not sure how long it last for. If somebody told him five seconds or five hours, he wouldn't be surprised anyway. 

"Yes, that," he says when Schönkopf pulls away. It's the most coherency he can manage. 

"You do what you want, Yang," says Schönkopf. "I'll always be right beside you."


End file.
